


The Silence

by Feclin



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Death, Family, Gen, Police, Strangulation, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 17:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5880028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feclin/pseuds/Feclin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When every noise is like a megaphone yelling in your ear, it doesn't take long, or much of a push, for you to snap</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Silence

**Author's Note:**

> This is a creepypasta that I made up, forever ago. I never finished it, but found it about a week ago and decided, why not? So, here it is, hope you enjoy.

Silence. He loved the silence. People’s voices and the noise of everyday irritated him and grated on his nerves. He would find solitary whenever he could and did not enjoy the company of others. He lived by the philosophy that silence was golden. 

His headphones provided a slight relief. It kept people away from him. Half of the time he didn’t even turn his music on. Hell, most of the time it wasn’t even plugged in. He’d just stick the end of it in his pocket and let people think he was listening to music.

It didn’t really bother him that people thought he was anti-social, or just plain rude. He would rather people not like him than people talk to him when he was in a mood.

His mother thought that he was going through a phase, a phase that had lasted since he was ten. He was now nineteen.

His father could careless. He never spoke to his son anyway. Why would he want to? James was a disappointment to him. He had never lived up to his father’s wishes.

Some days, very rare now, he would be able to slip out his headphones and sit with his little brother in his room. 

His brother always knew when it was okay to speak with him. And when it wasn’t okay he would write a note in the next room and slide it over to him. He took such care not to aggravate James.

His father was rarely home anymore, and his mother was constantly worrying. His brother was enjoying finally being a teenager. And James was looking for an apartment. A nice soundproof apartment.

He was sitting in his room, laptop on his lap, headphones plugged in but not in his ears.

His brother glanced in. “Hey.” His voice was soft. “Mom says I can stay at Trevor’s tonight. Can I borrow your phone?”

James reached into his pocket and pulled it out without a seconds thought. He smiled at his brother. “Of course. When do you have to leave?”

His brother slowly stepped into the room, causing his footsteps to be nearly silent. “In a few hours.”

James nodded and unplugged his headphones. “Let’s listen to some music then. I need to try and get some good stuff into your head.”

His brother grinned and quickly sat next to him. Excited about spending time with his big brother.

James could feel one of his moods coming on after his brother left that night and made sure to wear his headphones to dinner. It was just him and his mother, and after two failed attempts at conversation she gave up and they ate in silence.

James gasped as his headphones were ripped out and a very loud, very painful voice filled his ears. “Answer your fucking mother when she speaks to you!” his father was home.

James grabbed for his headphones but his father threw them across the room. “No. I am sick of this shit. You will never wear these fucking things in the house again!”

James could feel his father’s voice in the air. Each wave of it causing him to flinch back in pain. He grabbed his ears, but didn’t dare speak incase it caused more pain.

His father boxed his hands away from his ears. “Stop that. You will sit at this table like a normal fucking child or you’ll get out of my house.” He went to his plate and sat down.

James sat shaking in his seat. Every noise, even the smallest, caused him to flinch in pain. He felt sick. He slowly slid out of his seat and walked over to his headphones. He grabbed them and stared at them for a moment.

Taking a deep breath his ears started to ring and he turned and faced his father. Walking back to the table he sat down, headphones still in his hands.

His dad started to talk about his day, complaining about how everyone was so lazy. His mother just hummed in agreement. She wouldn’t even look at her son.

James grabbed one end of his headphones with his other hand and twisted it, holding it taut between his hands. He looked at at his father and suddenly jumped up, wrapping the headphones around his neck and pulling.

His mother screamed and his father scrambled back, falling to the ground as he reached up to grab the headphone wire around his neck. He was coughing and cursing as he used one hand to tug on the wire, and the other to claw at his son.

James held the headphones tighter and pulled, cutting off his father’s airways. “Shut up.” he growled. “Just shut up!”

The struggling weakened and soon stopped all together. Everything was blissfully silent. James dropped one side of his headphones and his father dropped to the floor, lifeless eyes staring at nothing. His mother stared at him in horror, her eyes wide with fear. 

James stepped over his father and sat back down. He started to eat his dinner again, content with the silence.

“Boy!” he jumped and blinked, looking up he saw his father glaring at him. Everything was just the way it had been before. 

He blinked blankly at his father until he grumbled under his breath about how children never listened and grabbed his plate, stumbling into the kitchen. James looked at his mother, she gave him a small smile. “Are you done?”

He looked at his plate, mostly empty. He didn’t even remember eating. All he could remember was feeling his father struggle to fight for breath. “Yeah.”

She grabbed his plate and ruffled his hair. “You can go back to your room. I’ll keep your father busy.”

James stood and walked back to his room. Dropping on his bed he looked at the headphones in his hands. Had he really imagined all of that? It felt so...real. He slid his headphones through his shirt so the earbuds were hanging out and stuck the end in his pocket.

Laying down on his back he closed his eyes. Sounds were dulled again, which he was grateful for. It was always easier to sleep when he didn’t have to deal with noise.

The days continued. His father was home more often, and every time James had an episode his father would scream at him, and try and take his headphones. James had imagined dozens of ways to kill his father during these outbursts. Each way felt so real, he didn’t even know it wasn’t happening until after it was over.

He would have been more freaked out, because each one ended with him strangling his father with his headphones, but after each imagined fight, his hearing would return to normal. And he could be normal, for just a few hours.

James found himself seeking out the fights. Everytime he felt his ears ring and noises would get too loud, he would put his headphones in and go out into the living room, muting the television knowing it would annoy his father.

His brother started to spend more and more time out of the house as the fighting got worse. His mother would bite her lip nervously but never said anything, to either of them. She normally hid herself when they started fighting.

The fights had begun to get physical, James getting black eyes and bruises on his face after each one. But to hear normally...it was worth the pain. He barely felt it anymore. 

But the imagined killings...they had gotten more violent. They still always ended the same way, his father's death by strangulation, but now he would beat him, cut him, stab him, blood splashed everywhere.

During the times where his ears rang he couldn’t think straight, shadows seemed darker, he saw a tall figure on the streets. All he could think about was fighting with his father, was upsetting him enough to have him scream and hit him, so that James could imagine killing him and get his hearing back to normal.

For weeks this went on, until one day, when James was home alone with his father. He was sitting on his couch, the television muted. His father walked into the livingroom. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

James didn’t hear him, the ringing in his ears painful. His father grabbed him and ripped his headphones out, noise rushed in and James suddenly snapped. 

He grabbed his headphones back and wrapped them around his father's neck, pulling them tight he fell to the ground as his father struggled, scratching at his son's arms and hands. James screamed at him to shut up, to finally be quiet.

James tightened his grip until his father stopped struggling and his eyes rolled back in his head. He unwrapped his headphones and stepped away. He was out of breath and the ringing was still in his ears, though dull.

He sat on the couch and put his headphones back in, waiting for the ringing to go away as it normally had.

It took longer, and the stinging of his hands and arms distracted him from the television before he realized his hearing was normal. He looked down at his hands and felt confused. They were covered in dried blood and scratches. Normally he never felt the pain from his imagined fights.

Standing he headed for the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth, he pulled off his headphones, earbuds dangling from his shirt and started to clean his cuts. He put an ointment on them, to keep them from getting infected, even if it was just his imagination he was running on autopilot.

He looked out his bathroom window and saw the man again, the tall one with no face. His head tilted and he leaned closer and watched him for a moment. James jumped when he heard a scream, turning he glanced at the bathroom door before looking back. The man was gone.

James shrugged and headed out of the bathroom, wondering why his mother was screaming. He stopped when he saw her kneeling by his dead father. Wasn’t this imagined fight over yet? He was getting tired of it.

He walked past them and sat back on the couch. He heard his mother sob. “James...James what happened?”

James hummed and shivered slightly. He grabbed his zip up jacket and slipped it on. “It’ll disappear in a moment. Always does.”

He heard his mother sniff. “James baby...please tell mommy what happened.”

James sighed but decided to entertain his imagination. “He came in and yelled at me, I wrapped my headphones around his neck and strangled him. Like I said, it will go away in a minute. This is the least violent time I’ve killed him.”

His mother took a shaky breath. “Alright dear.” she walked off.

James looked at his father's dead body and felt unease curl through him. “Why aren’t you leaving?” he whispered. 

He stood and froze when he heard sirens. Everything finally clicked into place. His father really was dead. This time it had been real. 

James ran through his front door, attempting to escape. A police officer stopped him, jumping out of his car and pointing his gun at him.

Noises started to get to loud again and he grabbed his ears. “Shut up!” he screamed. The sirens made it worse.

An officer grabbed him and cuffed him, shoving him in the back of the police car. James kicked and screamed, crying as his ears rang and bled slightly from the noise and pain. The sirens were turned off, and he relaxed.

He sat in the police car for hours, staring out the window, ears slightly ringing as he stared at the faceless man. Just watching him watch him.

An officer got in the car and he flinched when the door closed. They started driving. Around every corner James saw the faceless man, waiting for them. He looked at the office. “Sir...my ears are bleeding.” his eyes rolled up in his head and he dropped.

The officer cursed and hit the breaks. Stopping the car he jumped out and opened the backdoor. He undid the cuffs and helped the kid sit up, looking at his ears. The blood was dry, and nothing really to worry about.

James grabbed him, wrapping the headphones around his throat, the radio turned on to static, and the siren blared.

An hour later, another police car drove up to the car and an office carefully walked over, gun drawn. He noticed the radio was on, though no noise came from it, and while the siren was flipped on, there was no sound.

He looked in the back and gagged. The driver of the car was lying in the back, red marks around his neck from where he was strangled, his shirt ripped open and chest ripped apart. 

The officer searched the area and found no sign of the boy. He froze when he noticed something on the back window. Written in blood were the words, Silence is Golden.


End file.
